


Sticky Lips

by Pearly_Pornography



Series: Pearly's Preklok Fics [1]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Pre-Klok, Self-Harm, Smoking, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8692078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: Someone so young, and so helpless. Magnus had no idea what to do.





	

It wasn't often Magnus heard knocking on his front door. Especially not at such a late hour. He didn't have any friends or loved ones to invite over, after all, as his last band had fallen into ruin and none of them wanted anything to do with one another. 

And yet it happened. A resounding tap on the door.

The kid couldn't have been any older than 18. He was scrawny, with no muscle and just a bit of fat on his body. His eyes were downturned as he stood out in the rain, his matted, dark hair sticking to the back of his neck and his scalp. He gritted his teeth, and man, what a gap between those things. It was so big he could stick his tongue through it. Other than that, he only wore a wifebeater, a leather jacket, some shorts and a pair of Doc Martins, and his skin was dry, ruddy-colored, covered in pockmarks and scars.

"...Hey, ki--"

He was immediately interrupted. A raspy voice, tinged with regret.

"I'll schuck you off for a plasche to schtay."

Magnus blinked. The kid continued. "Thisch isch the firscht housche I came to, scho if you ain't intereschted, I'll juscht go."

"I, I mean, you can stay here, but--"

"Cool." He quietly pushed past Magnus, taking off his wet boots and throwing a knapsack on the ground. "I'll be gone in the morning, probably." He hung his wet jacket over the side of Magnus' couch, and flopped over onto it in a big lump.

"Don't just leave your wet-ass jacket on my couch..." He sighed, grabbing the jacket and throwing it over the towel rack in his bathroom. "Alright, kid, you've got some explaining to do."

"The fuck'sch that mean?"

"You literally just walked into my house after trying to suck my dick." That... was not a phrase he ever expected to say.

"I mean, that'sch how I got all my travelling done. 'Hey, I need to get schomewhere!' 'Schuck my dick!' All thesche guysch are the schame!" He wiped his lips, almost symbolically. "Scho I do it, 'causche I need schomeplasche to schtay!"

"That's completely fucked up."

"Whatever. Better than goin' back home."

"I mean, you really should. I can call your parents, or--"

"Don't bother." He grunted, sinking further into the couch cushions. "They ain't around. My grandparentsch hate my gutsch." 

"Where do you live."

"Atlanta."

"You came all the way from Georgia?!"

"Yeah! I hitchhiked and shit, y'know... What isch thisch? The fuckin' Schpanish Inquischition?!"

"Jeez... Alright, kid. You're stayin' with me."

"Yeah. Overnight."

"Until I figure out what to do with you."

The kid blinked. Magnus quietly lit a cigarette, as the kid stared at him in confusion, scratching his arm. "It's dangerous out there. You could get killed, or kidnapped, or raped or somethin'. And, regardless of your personality, I'd hate to see a decent person your age be traumatized like that." Magnus sighed. He'd been assaulted before. At a pretty young age, too. Probably about the same age as this little brat was.

"Scho, I'm like, your roommate?"

"Call it what you like. And scoot over, I wanna sit down." The kid shuffled back into a corner of the couch, allowing Magnus to man-spread hardcore. He took a half-finished bottle of tequila from his coffee table, offering it to the kid, who only responded with a nod and took a massive swig. (See, this was why he never considered parenting.) "Your name?"

"Huh?" The kid blinked, licking the bitter liquor off his lips and wrinkling his nose.

"Your name. What is it."

"William Murderfasche." Magnus nearly burst out laughing. "What?! That'sch my name!"

"That is the weirdest name I've ever heard. Makes me feel better about being called Magnus Hammersmith." William crossed his arms, which were covered in scars and bruises. Magnus' smile turned downward. "Say, what happened to your... uh..."

"Oh, uh... I've got schome old onesch on my back from Grandma... a couple from gettin' bitten, you know, the usual." He sighed, overly honest. "A few schelf-harm schcarsch. Who caresch."

"...I promise never to hurt you, okay?" Magnus shrugged. "Probably a cheesy thing to say, but you're stayin' here, so--"

William laid his head on Magnus' arm. He was quiet, latching onto him like a koala.

So Magnus decided not to move.


End file.
